


With No End

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier - Holmes/McMahon/Lang & Lang & Gale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Interruption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 22:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Modern AU, happily married with kids AU. Ja'far and Sherrezade reunite after five days apart. Their reunion does not quite happen as planned.





	With No End

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I was fucking self-conscious and really nervous about posting this one so please be easy on me. I've made up more kids than just the Princess because I feel like they wouldn't stop at just one, and I've browsed the wiki page of the Arabian nights for name inspirations for the extra kids. Please don't judge.

Ja'far's school allowed him budget for one week-long field trip every year. Every year, he took his seniors on the road, a youth program with NASA, of all the things, to give his physics students a little bit of dreaming. The week out of school both delighted him and his class, and filled him with sorrow at the prospect of spending this much time apart from his family. Without a fault, that week was the longest time he ever spent away from them and, although Sherrezade and him ought to become used to it by now, the separation was harder every year.

When finally Jasmyn's senior year came and, blessing upon blessing, she had accepted the utter humiliation of having her father as a teacher, he left for the trip with utmost happiness, having his darling elder daughter at his side.

It did not make Sherrezade miss him any less, though.

"_Finally_," he sighed at night when he video-called her. "I thought I'd never catch a break to talk to you."

Sherrezade smiled, trapping the phone between two jars on the kitchen shelf so that she may see him while she cooked dinner for the remaining crew at home.

"You've sent me sixteen texts today, dear."

Ja'far was in a shoe-size room which was what their school could afford to accommodate their faithful servant of over a decade of excellent teaching. The fluorescent light made him look exhausted and sickly, although that might just have been his current state.

"Oh, don't remind me," he replied with resignation. "All the kids are so bummed from me asking them to put their phones away all year, they made a game of scolding me every time I so much as looked at your profile pic." He smiled faintly. "They're funny little shits. It's nice to see them outside of a classroom."

"And how is princess?"

He smiled more honestly then.

"Impossible," he said fondly. "I think she's so determined to have her friends forget I'm her dad she's acting out on purpose. I try to play along the teacher part, but every time she hisses I just want to pet her like a kitten. It's been hard."

Sherrezade laughed. Behind her, she heard the twins snicker as well. It was different without Jasmyn and Ja'far at home. It wasn't all bad, either. She was glad he had caught her tonight, the first actual meal she'd cooked since he left two days prior. If the kids held their tongues about the fast food, so would she.

"How about you?" He asked. "What have you been up to?"

She was so engrossed in looking at his face on the little screen the knife she was holding grazed against her finger. She hissed and shoved the scratched knuckle into her mouth. The words that followed were half swallowed.

"Oh, you know..."

"Girl things," Badroul cried from the table where the kids were sitting, playing some board game before dinner was served. They never did like to help out all that much and, as Jasmyn was having a few days of respite from it, Sherrezade was granting them the same here.

"Girl things," Sherrezade shrugged.

Ja'far wasn't gullible enough for this.

"Did you watch scary movies without me again to make fart noises whenever the bad guys say anything?"

Sherrezade pursed her lips. They had gone to bed unreasonably late the past couple days, exhausted from evenings of giggles and too much junk food and sharing secrets and stories. Ja'far wasn't one for scary movies, way too easily startled for jump scares and disgusted by the sight of blood. If he could have his trip of dreams of spaceships and human advancement, they could have their naughty week of doing everything he wasn't keen on right here at home.

"Maybe."

He snorted, shaking his head with fondness, then grew quieter.

"Well, I think I have to go," he said, full of regrets. "I'll text you tomorrow, alright?"

"Don't get caught," she replied. "I hear the teacher's a wicked one."

"Heh, bathroom breaks, meals or something. I'll find a way." He smiled. "I love you and I miss you."

She blew a kiss to the phone, which made the girls gag in protest behind her. Ja'far smiled.

"I love you and I miss you," she replied in kind.

They looked at each other for a few more seconds, his tired eyes so full of love, before doing the wise thing and cutting the call. It was late, way too late to only be making dinner now but she was grateful that, if he had noticed, at least he had made any comment. They each had their own ways, even though they often met in the middle.

The trip was five nights, six days long. For all she enjoyed the time spent with the younger girls, especially more one-on-one moments too, Sherrezade missed her eldest and her husband all too dearly. Her bed was empty of him and she slept very poorly. The cats curled up in his empty spot to keep her company at night, but it was a mediocre replacement. She counted every day eagerly. By the time Friday came around and Ja'far was set to come home in the late afternoon, she was antsy with anticipation and could not stay in place. He texted her an estimate time at which he would be home and she started counting the hours. Two hours, one. Thirty minutes. Ten minutes.

She heard him pull into the driveway five minutes early and, all sense of dignity gone from her, ran out to greet him. He dropped the bags to the ground as soon as he caught glimpse of her, meeting her in the middle to hold her in his arms. He swirled her around, hugging her tight and as soon as her feet touched ground again, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard.

"You guys are 42 years old," Jasmyn groaned, coming from the back to get her bag from where Ja'far had left it.

Sherrezade and Ja'far didn't reply, only staring at each other, catching up with just one look a week of desperate separation. His arms were snug around her waist and she pressed herself even closer into the embrace, gave him another kiss. His cheek was scratchy under her palm. She liked that. He had said something about forgetting his razor at home but the crappy phone camera had not given the full glorious picture of the consequences of his omission.

"It's only been like five days," their bratty princess added.

She was huffing to carry her bag and Sherrezade was sure that Ja'far would indeed take it from her in a minute but for now, he could not look away, could not tear himself from her arms, and she was grateful for that.

"A day is a thousand years without you," he proclaimed, an apprentice poet when he was with Sherrezade.

"But a thousand years pass as fast as a day with you," she replied, the closing line to their little impromptu couplet.

They did eventually go inside, of course. Jasmyn was quick to thaw and fall back into good cheer. They had dinner together and it seemed to Sherrezade that everyone, the ones who had stayed and the ones who had been away, was more animated, more affectionate with one another, as if the familial affection had been sharpened by the absence of each other. That included her dear husband. First brushing occasionally, Ja'far's hand soon rested on her lap the entire meal, his thumb stroking lightly as they smiled at each other like the world existed strictly within this room, in the bubble around this love of theirs. When they were done and the kids scattered away, they did the dishes together, talked and exchanged whatever detail they had failed to communicate of what had gone on while they were apart. Love was contained in fleeting moments like these, in every touch of the hand, every meal and chore and joke and smile shared between them.

Another type of love beckoned them to the bedroom. Marjanah had retired a long time ago, citing a pile of books with her name on it. The twins were sent on their way to bed as well, just in time for Jasmyn to come home after a couple of hours spent at her girlfriend's next door − Sherrezade had learned not to feel too upset at how often Jasmyn craved to be away from home, even when she had been away for many days just then. All the better in this instant, she climbed the stairs and went directly to her room, leaving her and Ja'far finally all on their own.

"We'd better head off to bed," he said. "It's been a night."

She smiled and entwined her fingers with his, bringing the hands clasped together to her chest.

"Oh, I'm sure you're exhausted, darling."

He kissed her lips softly and she loved him so intensely in this instant, the way his eyes glinted with the contentment of being here with her, finally home.

"And I'm sure you'll tuck me right into bed," he replied.

They giggled like children as they ran their way upstairs, closing the door behind them and it was barely a heartbeat before he pulled her to him by the waist and kissed her hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, took a step backwards to take him to bed. He was still wearing his old scratchy sweater. She peeled it off of him, the shirt underneath too, eager to get her hands on him.

"Oh, I've missed you," she muttered more for herself than for his sake, though he took her affection so easily, so eagerly. She kissed his torso, hot skin under her lips, so relieved to be touching him again. "I've missed you _bad_."

She thought he would tear her top off of her, so fast he pulled it from her. They had no time to spare, not one second and she pulled him to the bed like the floor was lava, like she would burn up in flames if she didn't get what they both wanted right now. The back of her knees slammed against the edge of the bed. She unhooked her bra and fell back onto the covers. They were messy. Maybe she should have made the bed for him. But Ja'far didn't seem to notice, much less to care. His fingers hooked under her waistband and he pulled her pants and underwear off in one swift motion − she wondered if he felt proud of that smoothness or if it was just her. He sank to his knees and she lost all patience for such wonderings.

"So bad," she said and Ja'far's mouth delivered all the love that had been building strong in every conversation, every text exchanged during his time away.

She sighed, losing herself in the caress of his. Tongue tracing slow circles, soon faster, more insistent, and a finger pressed inside her, another. She wrapped her legs around his shoulders to keep him close.

"Yeah," she breathed out. She pushed her fingers through his hair, holding herself up with her other arm to look at him between her legs. "Just like that, love."

His hands were gripping her waist, pulling her even more flush against him, drowning in her. She moaned in appreciation − not too loud, but she had always thought that letting him know how much he pleased her was half of the pleasure itself. His cheeks were scratching the inside of her thighs and she found herself enjoying the new sensation much more than she could have imagined. She still craved an old sensation.

"Ja'far," she whispered. He twisted his fingers at a different angle and made her breath hitch, but she went on, "Come to bed."

His mouth pulled off her with a wet sound and he smiled, pumping his fingers in and out.

"You sure?"

His thumb pressed down and the sudden sharp touch made her leg twitch in surprise, but she nodded and Ja'far stood. She unbuckled his belt, took him in her hands to stroke him to hardness. His pants pooled to the floor and he almost tripped on them, so eager he was. He fell on top of her in a fit of breathless giggles, kissing her soft, kissing her hard.

"I love you," he said. She pushed on his shoulders to sit him against the headboard and straddled his lap. He kissed her as he guided himself inside her − they weren't usually so hurried, but some nights begged for such a haste. They both sighed heavily once he was sheathed in her. "I love _all_ of you."

"I love you," she said, for neither of them ever left those words unreciprocated.

She pulled her hips up, down, felt the thick slide of him inside her all the more acutely for the nights she had missed him. She loved him so much, heart and soul and, yes, body.

"You feel so good," he whispered softly against her ear.

He pressed a kiss on it, then just under it where his mouth tickled her sensitive skin and she closed her eyes, basking in pleasure. Kisses down to the neck and back up again, she felt the breath of him so keenly on her skin she shuddered.

"You don't feel too bad yourself," she replied.

With each thrust of hers, he pushed himself into her in smooth harmony. They had all the time in the world now. His hands were gripping her hips, helping her along and following the pace she set, and his touch was precious and magical. Sherrezade nuzzled her face into his neck comfortably, breathing in the smell of him. The pillows had ran out of it after the first night she had spent hugging them. It hadn't been the same anyways. Nothing was ever the same without him. In each other's embrace, they had the whole world in their arms.

They didn't notice hell breaking loose until it was too late. One second they were warm and cuddly and making love to each other like their six days apart had been as many years, and the next their blood was chilled and the mood murdered before it could settle on its natural own.

"Hey, daddy, did you unpack yet? I think I left my charger in your…"

Sherrezade was grateful that, at the very least, her back was turned to Jasmyn. She was not certain she would have survived having to look into her daughter's eyes when her body was still interlocked with Ja'far's in a very compromising way indeed. He had turned to cold stone, his arms limp around her and she was afraid to look at his face. For herself, she was sitting as motionless as she possibly could, in the foolish hope that the situation would simply resolve itself if she ignored that it was happening at all.

A few seconds of horrified silence passed before the shriek came. If Sherrezade hadn't known it was her child, her precious daughter yelling out in horror and whatever else, she might have thought it was a beast. Jasmyn stomped out of the room and back into hers, slamming all doors in her way. As soon as she was out, Sherrezade scrambled off of Ja'far, covering herself with the comforter for no reason now, but feeling suddenly modest.

"Jesus fuck…" Ja'far let out and for once, Sherrezade did not tick at the curse. It seemed more than warranted. "Can you believe this?!"

Sherrezade hopped off the bed to grab a nightshirt from the dresser. She pulled it over her head and realized she felt a bit chilly. How could she have been so warm mere moments ago?

"Seventeen years without any of the kids walked in on us a single time and now our last year as a complete family and this happens…"

Ja'far was rarely pessimistic, usually choosing to see the positive in any given situation. In this instant, she supposed that was her role to assume.

"Well, seventeen years is a long time, love. Let's be thankful it took even this long."

He was looking so very sorry and confused that Sherrezade's shame was fading by the second, replaced by compassion for the poor naked man sitting forlornly in her bed.

"Is she gonna hate me?" He asked with the hint of a pout at his lips.

She gave him a smile. Taking his hand, she kissed the knuckles of it before dropping it back. It bounced on the bed floppily.

"First of all," she said. "Stop worrying. We'll get this settled. Second of all, hide that pretty thing, we're not finishing this right now, dear."

Ja'far grumbled under his breath and pulled a pillow to his lap to cover his crotch.

"And third, I'm gonna go and talk to her."

That had been assuming that conversation was an option in the first place. She found three little heads peeking out of a sliver of the door on the opposite end of the hall. Jasmyn's, however, was right in the middle and was firmly closed. Sherrezade shook her head. They had been blessed with children who got along with one another more often than they didn't. In this instant, she could have done without the united audience.

"Badroul, sweetie, that's not your room," she told one of the heads. "You three go to bed, alright? Your own bed. And goodnight, I love you."

"What's wrong with Jasmyn?" the girl replied, not moving one inch towards her room.

"What's _not_ wrong with her?" Marjanah said under her breath, which Sherrezade pretended she hadn't heard for the sake of the priority at hand, Ja'far's peace of mind. One daughter at a time was more than enough to handle. Badour, as ever, said nothing, but she did close the door behind her and her sister, shoving the odd one out. Badroul glared at the shut door, but soon found that the Jasmyn situation was much more interesting from the hall than from her sisters' room anyways. One pair of spying eyes was better than three, Sherrezade supposed. Three heads down to one. What had taken Ja'far and her to have all those kids?

Music was coming from Jasmyn's room, much louder than would have been courteous at a normal time, much less after lights out. Sherrezade knocked, trying to keep the urgency out of it.

"Sweetheart," she said kindly but firmly enough that the music wouldn't cover it. "Princess, please, cut that music, your sisters need to sleep."

She looked at the younger girl pointedly at that and Badroul made her lonely way back to her room, sagging her shoulders in disappointment. Her door closed as well. Sherrezade sighed. The music was lowered, barely audible through the door. She knocked again, perhaps with a touch more insistence.

"Jasmyn, please," she pleaded, to no avail.

Yet another knock went unanswered. A sliver of light coming from the door, the soft music still playing, an occasional huff was evidence enough that Jasmyn was indeed there and was more than awake. And was not going to open that damn door.

"Let's just talk…"

She waited another minute in the foolish hope that Jasmyn might not have heard her, that she would open the door any time now. Eventually, she sighed and went back to her room. Ja'far was in his pajamas, the old college ones that were snug after many years of comfortable marriage. He looked at her eagerly and Sherrezade was heartbroken to have to give him a sheepish shrug.

"She won't open the door."

He was disappointed. Jumping to his feet, he made his way to the hall where she heard him knock on the door with even more honeyed words. And with equal lack of success. He was contrite when he inevitably came back to her.

"It'll be fine," she said, holding his arms to try to soothe him. "It's not the end of the world, we'll all be over it soon."

Reluctantly, he nodded. When they went back to bed, he was still stiff as a board, even when she sank into his embrace as flush as she could.

"Come on," she said teasingly. She reached to fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck in another vain attempt to relax him. "You're fretting, husband."

He rubbed her back gently in apology, holding her close to him. Sherrezade breathed deep. How she loved the smell of him, the warmth of his arms around her. The feel of his skin under her fingers, heartbeat right below the surface.

"Why don't you relax and trust that we'll solve this tomorrow?" She kissed his scratchy neck, hot under her lips. "And in the mean time…" She kissed his jawline, held him by the collar to kiss him on the lips and…

"Are you serious?!" He whispered loudly. "_We're not finishing this right now, dear._"

She groaned, though she dropped her advances at once, resigned. Her head falling back against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. Five nights, now six. She had missed him in his absence, but now missed him even worse in his presence.

"I'm sorry," he said and kissed the crown of her head apologetically. "I just… I can't. Not tonight."

"Of course," she said. "Of course."

Her rational mind understood him perfectly, of course. After a moment of intense embarrassment, it was a lot of her to ask for him to slide back into the amorous mood they had shared. Sweet as it had been, it had fled from their grasp. She sighed. Her body told a whole different story. Her fingers tapped impatiently against his shoulder. Suddenly, she sat up. Ja'far's brow furrowed.

"Well," she said, stretching her arms. "I'm taking a shower."

She kissed his cheek before leaving him alone in their bed, making her way to their ensuite bathroom.

"I thought you showered in the morning…"

She turned back to wink at him.

"You're a man of science, my dear. Do the math."

She came back to bed not that much later, locking herself back into his loving arms, cuddlier even than before. She had not put her nightshirt back on, but Ja'far did not seem to mind.

"You're the best husband in the world, you know that?" She muttered into his torso.

She felt the rise of his breath as he huffed, heard the beat of his heart under her ear. Having his arms around her was as natural as existing in her own body.

"Sounds like an interesting shower you had, my darling."

She pushed against his shoulder in fake protest.

"Oh, hush, I had to do what I had to do." He nodded with a tired laugh. "I'm just glad you're back in this bed, that's all."

"Me too," he said. "God, me too."

Jasmyn's door was still definitely closed the next morning, though that was not unlike any other Saturday morning. Ja'far was out of the bed first, whispering sweet nothings to Sherrezade when he stirred her awake by leaving her alone there, kisses and promises that she could stay in bed as long as she wanted. She groaned and hugged the pillow tight. It smelled like him again. She smiled and slept a little bit longer.

It wasn't until she too left their room, casually pulling on some leggings, and a large shirt that belonged to Ja'far, that she remembered the previous night in a sudden crash of her mood. She sighed as she stared at Jasmyn's room in defeat. No sounds came out of it and she supposed that the terrified little beast had calmed herself to sleep eventually. She left it there and went downstairs.

"Oh, you're up," Ja'far said with a smile.

He was helping the girls packing their things for the various activities that filled the day, but stopped to give her a kiss and pour her a cup of hot tea. Honey and milk stirred in for her, with another kiss as extra.

"I'm taking the kids, alright?" He said, more to make conversation than as if there had been any doubts as to which of them would assume that responsibility. Ja'far was the organized one, the planner, the one who'd had his crap together long before meeting her and creating a life together. "I'll be back in a bit."

He hesitated near the door, car keys clutched in his fist.

"If she… I mean, you'll handle it if she wakes up?"

She smiled and nodded with much more confidence than she was feeling.

"Don't fret about it," she said, though she knew he would.

The girls looked at each other.

"You really have to tell us what happened to make her lose it like that."

Ja'far hushed them out of the door.

"We really don't," he replied with finality.

The door closed behind the pack and Sherrezade was left to herself to figure out what she might tell that daughter of hers. At least it had been the elder, she tried to think. Or would it have been better if it had been the younger girls, who had each received quite a few iterations of the sex talk much more recently than Jasmyn? It really was a pity, though, she told herself. Seventeen years till the very first interruption of their married life wasn't too bad, she had said the night before. She was starting to understand Ja'far's point of view a little better. If they had maintained their privacy that long, how unlucky that they should fail now. But fail they had, and quite miserably too. She could feel her cheeks burning in the memory of how embarrassed she had been.

She ate breakfast quietly, wistfully. Saturday was her slow day during which she finished editing the pieces she wrote during the rest of the week. Even that seemed to be too hard to focus on and she found herself realizing she had been staring off into nothing, at anything but the blinking cursor on her screen. When Jasmyn made her appearance, there was no saying how long she had been there until Sherrezade noticed her.

Neither of them said anything at first. It soon became obvious to Sherrezade that Jasmyn was pretending she wasn't there at all again. Though she stared at her as she made her sluggish way to the kitchen cupboard and grabbed herself breakfast, not once did her daughter return her gaze. She sat on the very opposite end of the large table and started eating, browsing her phone as if she was having a weekend morning home alone.

After some time, Sherrezade noticed that she was ostensibly breaking tiny rules she knew were irrelevant enough that they wouldn't get her in trouble with her, but which annoyed her even more for that. Leaving crumbs on the table, balancing herself on two legs of her chair. Eating the chocolate bars Ja'far kept for special treats. Chewing with her mouth open. Foolishly defiant, as always. She wasn't looking her way, of course, munching on her forbidden snacks, deliberately ignoring her. Her feet were on the chair next to her, not quite daring putting them on the table – her bravery had its limits – and Sherrezade remembered that it wasn't so long ago that their princess had used to crawl on her lap on the couch and giggle all her little heart out as Ja'far counted and tickled her tiny toes. A thousand days passed as one when you were with the ones you loved. She had cherished her as a little girl, adored her now as a teenager. Even on her bad days. She sighed.

"Jasmyn."

She knew better than to expect a response, yet was still disappointed when none came. Jasmyn looked at her fingernails. She had taken to using fun colors of polish when she had started middle school and wanted herself just as different as all the other kids. Over time, the passion had dulled and nowadays she only applied new polish every few months when it was too chipped to ignore. Sherrezade knew that and had not even needed to be told. She knew so many things about her kids.

"You know, princess, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…"

Jasmyn snapped her head to glare at her.

"Oh, I'm not a child anymore, alright?" She grumbled in exasperation.

Sherrezade smiled, satisfied.

"That's right," she said. "You're not."

Jasmyn huffed, staring back at her nails, picking at cuticles.

"Listen, can we just acknowledge that it happened, that it was incredibly embarrassing for all of us, and put it behind us? It's not like _we_ were thrilled about it either. Your father is mortified."

Jasmyn paused. She ate the last chocolate-y bite of the stolen bar before leaning her chair back on all feet and resting her elbows on the table to stare right at Sherrezade in intense scrutiny.

"Can I get a motorbike to get over the shock?"

"No."

"New shoes?"

"You have more than enough shoes, darling."

Jasmyn tapped her chin in deep reflection.

"A trip to Disney World?"

"I thought you hated big corporations," Sherrezade pointed out. "And no."

"To Disneyland Paris?"

"_Jasmyn_."

Jasmyn threw her hands up in the air and blew raspberries.

"Well, I tried to be reasonable."

"Try to be a little bit _more_ reasonable, then, and be nice to your dad when he comes back. He's really upset about this."

Jasmyn, to her credit, was kinder than she was rebellious. She had a big heart ready to forgive and forget, even if she stirred the crap just a little bit before relenting. When Ja'far came home and avoided her gaze, still embarrassed to his core, Jasmyn clutched his arm softly and asked if he wanted to go to the library with her. That was an olive branch if there ever was one, as they all knew that Jasmyn grew bored of browsing books after mere minutes, but that it was Ja'far's greatest pleasure, especially when he could share it with his family.

"What the fuck happened to make her do that? She hates books," Badour noted as soon as they were out the door.

Sherrezade _tssk_ed.

"Language," she chided gently. The kids had all too happily inherited Ja'far's potty mouth, but that didn't stop her from correcting father and children equally whenever she had to. "I'm afraid this is a case of 'we'll tell you when you're older', sweetheart."

Father and daughter spent a few hours out together, texting Sherrezade to not wait on them for lunch. When they came back, they were beaming with joy and fully comfortable with one another again. Sherrezade smiled in satisfaction until she noticed Jasmyn's new shoes as she showed them off proudly to her siblings. Sherrezade wasn't sure she liked that, but she supposed the price of peace was well worth it.

At night, Ja'far crashed into her embrace, exhausted.

"Oh, she'll kill me some day, I love her."

"She's a charming one, isn't she?" Ja'far nodded against her chest and she sighed comfortably. "What did you do to tame her?"

"Oh, you know..." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "The talk."

She snorted.

"You're better with words than me, then. She was a closed book."

"_You're_ a writer," he pointed out.

She combed fingers through his hair, smiling. She had always loved the weight of him in her arms, the way she too was able to give him comfort like he did her. He was warm. He was home.

"She's never done it, by the way," he said after a while.

"That came up?"

He nodded again. He hadn't shaved the stubble off his cheeks yet, a lazy weekend morning. She'd have to try and sway him to push it off just a few days more.

"Yeah, we just had a nice long talk. It was… Well, at first it was awkward, very much so, but I think I was so embarrassed she found it funny. We just agreed to never talk about what happened ever again and forget it forever, but still, she opened up a little."

"Mmh."

"She says she doesn't feel ready yet."

Sherrezade was wistful.

"That's mature," she noted. "Wonder who she takes that from. How long did we take, an hour?"

"If even that," he chuckled. "But we weren't seventeen, either."

She remembered the day she had met Ja'far. She had thought that it would forever be the most special day in her life, but then Jasmyn had been born. There was the same passion in her as in her father, the same boundless hope for change, for a better life for all. She had his smile, too.

"I wish I'd met you when we were seventeen," she said eventually. "I'd have done everything to get me that class nerd."

"Oh, seduced by the class's emo poetess, is it? And would you have been ready then?" He asked, teasing.

He looked up at her with glinting eyes and a smile at the lips that she just had to kiss away. He was all too eager to respond, his hand cupping the back of her neck, holding her face close to his. The kiss lingered on, perhaps all the longer for several nights spent apart, including the night prior in their own bed.

"Ja'far," she purred, looking down at him in love and adoration, "My dear?"

She twisted a curl of his hair around her little finger and toyed with it.

"Yes, love?"

She yanked her finger free and smirked.

"Lock the door, will you?"


End file.
